Before Going to Hell and Back
by Karen Hikari
Summary: It was weird, sure, but couldn't he have a little happiness before everything went to Hell and back?


Okay, this came out after a friend dared me to write a lemmon fanfic with this two. It was in his dare, that there had to be raping.

I don't really write in romantic, let alone lemmon, but a dare is a dare, so this is it. I'm fairly convinced that I'll eventually re-write this, to make it not a raping, but something out of romance . . . just not now.

_Before Going To Hell and Back_

Luke smiled as he directed his gaze to Percy, who stood in front of him, holding his sword, Anaklusmus, in an awkward way.

He was still so young, so inexperienced. And the Revolution was coming so soon . . .

Percy was a nice boy. A little clumsy and ignorant, but nice. He never distrusted others but, given the current state of things, Luke was unsure whether if it was something good or bad.

And those eyes . . . Those splendid blue eyes. His own eyes were blue, but a darker shade of, not as pure, not as brilliant, not as beautiful. Percy's eyes were a light and pure blue that reminded of the sea, holding a glimpse of green, like the ocean at night, leaving no doubt about who his Olympic parent was.

Luke had liked the boy since he had entered Camp Half-Blood a few days aback. At first, he had thought it was because Kronos' army needed new, strong demigods, but . . . it was not that. He didn't want Percy to be in an army. He didn't want him to get hurt. He wanted to protect him.

It was silly—how he wanted to give that kid something no one had ever given to him. But so it was.

Plus, he had started to feel—something else. It was new. It was warm. It was something he didn't know, but that didn't feel completely bad. It was something that made him want to pull Percy's smaller frame against his own and squeeze him and kiss him and—touch him.

But it was wrong. It was completely wrong.

Not only because they were both males, but also because Percy was just twelve years old, and he had just lost his mother, and his world was falling apart, and he was so scared he would have taken any comfort.

And, as if it were not enough, he was going to betray Camp Half-Blood and the Olympians for leaving with Kronos, and that included leaving Percy behind or making him endure countless risks that would hunt him nevertheless if he stayed in the camp.

He didn't want to risk the boy's life.

They were deep in the woods, sword training. It hadn't seemed strange when he had offered to take Percy under his care for mastering the ancient Greek weapon, since he was the best at it in the whole Camp Half-Blood and Percy was new at it. True to tell, Chiron had inquired a couple of things about why did it have to be in the forest, but he had denied him saying that they wanted to have more space and the training rooms were too crowded, and he had accepted.

Sure, until then they had been training, but he was soon getting tired of it, and he was becoming impatient because he wanted something that didn't include thrusts and stabs, but caresses and kind touches.

Luke made a fast movement with Backbitter and sent Anaklusmus flying. The magnificent Greek sword fell far away from Percy's reach and the son of the Sea could only look pleadingly at his captor, that still held his sword firmly, pointing at his opponent's neck.

They were separated for something that seemed like ten centimeters but, unconsciously, Luke began to a short it, his sword still pointing at Percy's throat, being able to slice it at any moment, but not trying to, his eyes always in Percy's, in those beautiful green eyes that were now huge with panic and that silently asked him what was wrong.

The answer was simple—he couldn't hold it any longer. He was tired of training side by side with the object of his hallucinations and not being able but to barely touch him.

And each time he came closer to seat Percy's armor or to correct his posture and he touched him he only wanted to continue touching him and holding him and he wondered how his lips would taste and how would he act to his caresses and—he had to stop.

That was the reason why he had proposed to train deep in the forest instead of in the training room–where everyone could see them–and that was the reason why he had not been as careful as in previous days when it came to touch his opponent, even if it was in a 'casual' way.

He kept coming closer, closer with each pace, while his breathing became heavier and he continued arousing and he couldn't even think about what he was doing.

When only a few inches separated the blade of the sword from Percy's neck he threw it to the ground.

Meanwhile he had been walking toward Percy, the boy had stepped back, acting because of fear and trying to find a way back into the security of the camp—but instead he had just found a tree that was now blocking his only escape route, because Luke was in the other one.

He looked at Percy as if he were starving and the boy were some kind of magnificent delicacy, but Percy could only look at him with fear.

Luke continued coming closer and soon his hands were over Percy's shoulders, his gaze illegible, his mouth searching for Percy's desperately.

He soon found it and Percy, too stunned to even fight back, stood frozen while Luke's arms circled his slender body.

Meanwhile, Luke was busy, intoxicated with pleasure, because he could at last have what he had waited for so long.

He began kissing him slowly, unsure of how much could he pull the strings until Percy reacted, but soon he got tired of it and he tried with something stronger and faster. But it soon got him bored as well and he began bitting those young lips, that moved as he fiercely played with Percy's tongue and tryied to get his own tongue even deeper in the boy's mouth, that stood slightly opened, probably out of surprise, as Luke continued kissing him with the strength of the tide during night.

There was so many flesh to explore, even if Percy's body was young and small, that Luke soon came out of his mouth and fall to his neck, starting all over again, first kissing him slowly and slightly, then with force and fiercely, sometimes even bitting, meanwhile his hands continued working as well, exploring his hips and thighs, touching his torso and abdomen, because he was getting too impatient and he feared he wouldn't have enough time to explore this new wonder.

He passed from his neck and began with his chest, but soon the orange t-shirt became a problem and without stopping the kisses he directed his hand to the shirt edge and tried to pull it off, but Percy's weak, scared voice didn't allow him to.

"Stop it, Luke" his voice sounded as if he were holding back tears and when he finally separated himself from the young flesh and directed his eyes to the boy's face he was able to confirm it—the boy was almost trembling out of fear and he seemed frightened. "Please stop. Please."

He felt something inside of him break. Couldn't Percy see how badly he needed this? How badly he needed him? He wanted to dry away his tears, to kiss him tenderly and to assure him everything would be alright. He wanted to stop, because that was what Percy wanted and he didn't want Percy to suffer—but he couldn't.

He was so sexually excited and he wanted to touch him and to posses him so badly it was driving him crazy and he couldn't stop, even if he wanted to.

He ignored the young's pleadings and he took off his t-shirt, almost breaking it apart because of the unnecessary strength. Then he took away his own.

When the orange shirt was not a barrier anymore he continued admiring that young body, kissing it without caring about Percy's soft whimpers.

While he continued kissing the boy's chest, his hands moved to Percy's pants and unfasten the belt, even if the boy's hands tried to impede it and another round of 'Please don't. Please stop' came.

"Listen, Percy, you help me and I'll do it fast. You trouble me and I can kill you right here, alright?" He said, more fiercely than he had intended. That was not true and Luke knew he was not planning to actually hurt the child, but if he could control him, using his fear as a weapon, he would be able to get what he wanted so badly.

"Why, Luke?" answered the boy, while huge, pleading tears began falling from the corners of his green eyes.

"Just because, Percy. Now, nothing will happen to you if you obey me, understand?"

The kid nodded, but continued crying and sobbing softly, and his eyes avoided looking at Luke and got lost in the trees.

After that, Luke went back to kissing his lover's body, starting again from the height of his neck, bitting his nipples while his hands continued playing with Percy's thighs.

When he remembered about himself he realized he had to unfasten his own belt, but it was that same realization what allowed him to listen Percy's whimpers.

Luke stepped back, stunned. What in the world was he doing? What was he doing?

Percy was crying, half naked, hiding his eyes—his beautiful green eyes that seemed able to even warm his stone-frozen heart—from him, too scared to even dare to look up at him; he was also trembling, out of fear, probably. God, he was frightened, everything in his body yelled that, his eyes, looking plainly at the horizon, while his tears fell from the corner of his eyes and to his chest, his fidgeting, his hands, transformed into fists, the way he bit his lower lip.

And he was the cause of it.

He was the cause of everything. Of Percy's fear, of his tears, of his pain, of that suffering glimpse in his eyes.

Jeez, what was he doing? What a hell was he doing? Did he thought that doing that would he gain Percy's trust, his affect? He was insane, for God's sake!

Thank goodness he had been brought back to reality in time!

Uncomfortably he separated from Percy's body, and when he was at least three inches away from him did the boy finally return his gaze to Luke's eyes.

Luke felt even guiltier than before, because there was no hate or distrust in the boy's eyes. Just fear, and the feeling of betrayal that hung in the air.

Luke bent over to reach for Percy's forgotten t-shirt.

"Sorry" he said, avoiding at all costs his green eyes "I don't know what happened." He tried smiling, but it was the most faked smile in the world, and Percy noticed.

"Are you okay, Luke?" Percy asked, cautiously, still scared, but with a note of worry in his voice.

"Sure, Percy, I . . . I'm fine. Sorry." He repeated. "Here" he said offering him his t-shirt, which Percy reached over for it but didn't put it on.

Percy looked at him right into the eye and there, in his eyes, there was worry, urgency, fear, but more than that, something that seemed love, maybe it was just the fact that Percy was not mad after everything that had happened and for what would had happened, but not exactly.

Without another word, Luke pulled Percy's smaller frame against his own, noting no resistance on the boy's side.

"Sorry" he repeated, hugging Percy even closer.

"Are you okay?" Percy asked again.

Luke finally, reluctantly, separated himself from the Son of the Sea, and smiled, a little more honestly this time.

"I am, Percy. I am" he said. But before he could feel too comfortable about it he remembered they had to go back to the camp before someone started wondering where they were.

And so he said to Percy, who agreed immediately.

When they were both dressed again they headed back to the camp, following the same path that had taken them into the woods.

Luke was still ashamed in so many levels for what had happened that he thought he would consider himself lucky if Percy ever directed his beautiful green eyes to him again.

But it was not so.

When they had just started to see the twelve cabins that seemed little houses at that distance, Percy suddenly slide his hand into Luke's, who was too stunned to react.

That warm feeling came back, but this time what filled Luke's chest was tenderness and love, the purest love he had ever felt.

It was weird, sure, but couldn't he have a little happiness before everything went to Hell and back?


End file.
